Chariots of the Gods. What a cool book for a preteen to get beyond Santa Claus and into UFOs and Bigfoot. The turds from Santa’s tiny reindeer turned out to be just raisins. The castings of Bigfoot prints and ancient artwork that could only be seen from the sky were harder to explain away.
Scott had been my dive buddy on my first dive after certification in Barbados. He put out a message on WhatsApp saying he wanted to put a group together to fly over the Nazca Lines while our ship spent the day in Pisco, Peru.
Dusty had not been feeling well for a few days, so I was surprised when she agreed to come along. By the time we arrived at the pier just south of the city in Paracas, there were fourteen of us. This meant we would be split between two planes, but that was for the tour organizers to figure out. After the flight over the lines, we would go to the oasis at Huacachina and then a wine tasting. It sounded ambitious, but that was for the tour organizers to figure out.
Scott started getting messages from the tour operator to hurry up and catch a ride into town while we were still preparing to dock. We were supposed to get to the airport by 9:30 to fly at 10:00. At 8:00, our group was at the gangway with passports in hand waiting for immigration to clear the ship for us and about one hundred others to go ashore. We were all aboard the shuttle by 8:20 when the bus attendant said we would leave promptly at 8:30. We sweated a bit until the bus was full and they decided that waiting longer made no sense.
Most of the landscape between the port and the city was a bit of a sand and rock moonscape. Or rather like Mars due to the reddish hue of the terrain.
We entered stop-and-start traffic behind a couple of buses as soon as we got into town. Fortunately, it was only a few blocks to the drop-off where we would catch a van to the airport. We all piled in and got to the airport a little after 9:00. We held up our part, now it was up to them.
The Pisco airport was surprisingly modern and surprisingly big for the location. But it did smell a lot like dried fish inside. We lined up at check-in number nineteen and showed our passports as the attendant had each of us step onto the luggage scale to plan the weight distribution for the ten-passenger plane we would board shortly. At least half of us would board shortly because they apparently were going to run us in successive flights instead of concurrently.
Dusty and I were assigned to the second group and were soon back in the van taking a quick tour of the city of Pisco. The guide gave us a good background of the fish and guano industry of the area as well as the effects of the 2007 8.0 magnitude earthquake that reshaped the city.
After a walk around the town square and a few more show-and-tell moments, we returned to the airport to wait for our first group to get back from their Nazca experience. While we waited, several from our group took a look at the souvenir shirts, hats, and handicrafts that were available in the terminal.
Dusty found an embroidered headband to hold back her now lengthening hair. The fact that it complemented her new shoes was just a bonus. I chatted with the vendor and her daughter in Spanish about our ship, my blog, and photos. Later we came around to the benefits of learning English for their business.
When I saw Gary coming back from the first flight, he had a few words about the ride. He said the return to the airport had gotten pretty bumpy and airsick bags had been put to use. I knew as the ground warmed up there would be lift from the surface and feared our ride just may be “bumpy” all the way.
No backing out, and I wasn’t going to share my fears, just the news from Gary. The twin-engine Cessna was a good-looking machine and that improved my comfort level. Then the copilot called our names and lined us up for the weights and balances of the aircraft. With the weightiest over the wings and the smallest nearest the tail, we squeezed in and both engines came to life.
Having flown myself when I was sixteen, I couldn’t help but monitor the steps involved and the gauges as the pilot took to the air. No flaps on takeoff. Rate of climb, about five hundred feet per minute. Azimuth, about one hundred thirty degrees. We passed over the port where the Odyssey was docked, and we got a pretty decent view as we passed on our climb to 7,500 feet. Passing
through 5,000 feet, we began to hit turbulence that had the plane bouncing from side to side and periodically dropping suddenly, prompting me to tighten my seatbelt.
We had our headphones on to hear the narration during the flight, and it prompted me to check the noise level in the plane. One hundred and four decibels. Yep. It was loud.
The sand and rock surface below periodically had swaths of green surrounding a river winding through the land. There would be accompanying structures and even small cities. Then more barren space and hills and mountains.
We had seen the map with images of the geoglyphs and the order we would see them. It would be close to a half hour each way and about a half hour over the site. As we approached, I saw that our altitude decreased steadily until we were less than a thousand feet above the dry surface below us.
A pair of straight lines meeting at a right angle was the road that was the landmark for our first glyph. The whale was also one of the hardest to see, and I was glad I had listened to the clue for the start of our photo fest. The road was just as visible as the glyph, in fact more so. The contrast between the dark stone on the surface and the light-colored marine layer beneath was the secret to the artist’s canvas we were flying above right now.
Then I could see it. At first, it looked like the ValueJet logo. Then I could see the whale. The pinwheel eye and the curled tail helped me focus for the rest of the show.
Number two on the list was a pair of trapezoids. So big with such straight lines they were impossible to miss. The plane had a low wing, which meant the pilot had to make a hard bank around to the right for my side to see the glyphs, then hard left for the other side. As we lined up on the first of the trapezoids, I had the image of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon go through my head. Sharp angles making a triangle with a ray shooting out of the bottom. The other side had the other trapezoid that was incredibly long with the point running off towards the horizon.
I thought I was losing my eye for the Nazca Lines when the “astronaut” was next. The copilot told us through our headphones that it was off the right side. I looked along the floor of the valley and... nothing. We circled around to the left and there it was. Not on the valley floor, this was on the side of a hill. Not the best of the bunch, but it was definitely there. And
the petroglyph that I saw on my Southwest USA trip for my 50th birthday was definitely more astronaut than this guy. Smaller, but more space alien.
The next ones were the most recognizable. The monkey is so iconic they use its tail in the Peru tourism ads. The hummingbird is so cool it just looks great. The dog was in between the two but never seems to make the top sellers. Not every glyph can be a rockstar.
Seaweed obviously meant a lot and showed up pretty well. I didn’t realize that I had gotten the sword until I saw it in the same shot as the seaweed.
At this point, I noticed that banking back and forth so much was starting to challenge my normally reliable stomach to keep down the eggs and cereal from breakfast. And we were just finishing up the first half.
For the spiral, I got my best shot out of the opposite side of the plane, and then the condor was so big and clear that I got tons of shots.
I forgot my stomach for a while as I fought to make sure my camera was focused on the glyphs and not the wing or the window. Another near-perfect shot came up: the spider. Symmetric and clear, hanging right off the right wingtip as we circled about five hundred feet above it. Of course, I took too many shots, but I was not going to be back any time soon, so I wanted to make sure I had at least one good one.
The zigzag of the heron's beak was the next thing that you could see. Then you saw the long, straight beak pointing out into the distance. Then you could see the wings and the rest of the bird. Then you could see the whole thing. But it was hard to get the whole length of it into one photograph. I think I ended up cutting off the last bit of the beak. Still pretty wow!
The next one that was clear was the parrot with its big curved beak and long parallel lines.
We wheeled around and were looking at the visitors' tower that people could climb up to look at some of the glyphs from the surface. There were three right there: hands, a tree, and a lizard with a road running right through its tail.
Towards the end what I saw as my gut was starting to either recover or adapt to our twisting and turning was either a pelican, another hummingbird, or a brand new discovery we had just made. I will leave it up to you to decide.
Nazca left me with a simple going-away gift: a flower.
After that, it was up and away to 6,500 feet for the return as our pilot checked back on us to make sure no one was making a mess of his nice plane. After about fifteen minutes, they pointed out in front of us a wall of brown coming towards us from the ground all the way up to our elevation. I had seen it before in Phoenix. A haboob. A sandstorm. They didn't seem too worried, so I wasn't either. Fortunately, it was only about a half mile deep before we came out on the other side.
While we were still in the air, I could see Scott checking his messages on WhatsApp. It seems that there was not enough time for us to go to the oasis or do the wine tasting. After discussing it with the rest of the group, it was decided that a partial refund would be paid to us in exchange for the partial failure to provide the promised tour. I was glad that we had managed to see all that we had seen. It was something that I will never forget and look forward to sharing with anyone who wants to take a look at what we saw.
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